


Party like it's Pride

by EmilysRose



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, F/F, F/M, Fluff, I just wanted PUNK!people, M/M, Multi, Pride Day, Sheriff POV, and I miss Pride already, lots of relationships, not really about Sterek, punk!everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 13:38:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12255477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilysRose/pseuds/EmilysRose
Summary: Sherrif Stilinski get's a surprise call from his son and decides to come down to visit his son and his new husband--he doesn't realize that it's Pride





	Party like it's Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly this is just a camio of my favorite ships :)
> 
> Wow--So I realize I posted it unfinished from a different Word Doc than I meant to. Woops. Here it is, finished.

 

As soon as the Sheriff came out of the airport, he sees his son. It’s not hard. Stiles always had this ability to stand out, even if he wasn’t covered in glitter, wearing leather from head to toe, and had hair the color of the rainbow.  

His son is busy doing something on his phone—good to know that at least _that_ hasn’t changed over the years—and is grinning into the grin. It gives Noah the time to think. He’d bought the plane ticket to SFO as soon as he’d ended his phone call with Stiles a week ago. It wasn’t every day that your only son calls you to scream _“I’m married Dad!”_ the second you pick it up. The Sheriff had been so shocked he hadn’t even tried to interrupt Stiles’s long and happy rambling about some kind of impromptu trip to Las Vegas with his boyfriend—a boyfriend that Noah had heard about but had never met—and about how from one drunk night to the next the two of them had decided to get hitched. Stiles was planning a reception for Noah when they got into town.

But who has a reception in leather and glitter? Only his son, apparently.

In his head, Noah imagined Derek—probably as awkward and nerdy as his own son—with glasses and a Star Wars shirt too big for his skinny body. He imagined a house filled with comic books and dirty socks. That was the kind of boy Stiles always brought home with him in High School. But going to college in San Francisco seemed to have changed his son in very dramatic ways. Were those… tattoos?

Noah stepped forward, his eyes trained on what he had originally thought was some kind of shirt. But it was Stiles, bare-skinned, with tattoos from the jawline down to the knuckles in intricate black designs and words, flowers, skulls, and just about everything in between. There was that weird spikey turtle thing from the Mario games that Stiles loved so much as a kid and a star with fire surrounding it. There was a ninja turtle and a naked woman and the word _Lydia_ as well as some kind of throne made out of swords. There was brass knuckles and Waldo from Where’s Waldo. Spiderman and a tree-looking thing were right next to each other. Noah realized, with a kind of drawing horror, that the only clothing his son was actually wearing, right in the middle of the pick-up lane at SFO, was tight leather pants. There were other changes, too, like a bull-ring dangling under his nose and one of those strange lip piercings and big circles in his ears so if they were out his ears would look like dangling puppet flesh.

It all tied together with that damn rainbow hair.

“Keep walkin’, buddy, not interested in no silver-fox thang,” Stiles said as Noah approached, not looking up from his phone as his fingers blurred away.

Noah really needed to check his Facebook more often. He also really need to pay more attention to Holliday visits—though Stiles had always been careful to wear long sleeves then, right? Were the piercings new? The big holes in his ears were. “I would hope not, son.”

He watched Stiles look up, his eyes—did he have makeup on? The eyeliner was thick and black and smudged and a lot more refined and sparkly than how Noah remembered Stiles putting on in High School. There was also some foundation and lipstick, too. Bright red lips spread into a huge smile as Stiles shoved his body forward, arms wrapping around Noah in a familiar back-slapping hug. The Sheriff hugged back as tightly as he could, not realizing how much he missed being physically near his son until he had his boy back in his arms.

As they parted, Noah looked down, seeing glitter all over his favorite polo. “So… you’ve changed.”

Stiles winced and in a second some of the awkward teenagers that Noah remembered came flooding back. The Sheriff was almost as sad to see it as he was relieved as Stiles rubbed the back of his tattooed neck with a tattooed hand. Even his _palm_ was tattooed, a tiny little spiral in the middle of his right palm. “Uh, oh, yeah, I probably should’ve had tried to, uh, well—see, I figured if I showed up like, in a suit, you’d know something was really wrong. I mean, suits, right? But then, I thought as I was driving away from the Parade that maybe I should tone it down for you a bit, but then you’d _really_ be confused when I brought you home so… ah…” Stiles grinned, tapping the Sheriff gently on the chest with two tattooed fingers. “Gotta protect that ticker. So, consider yourself warned.” He flamboyantly signaled to himself.

“Stiles,” Noah said, tense. _Explain_ went unsaid.

“You see… I live in San Fransisco.” Stiles explained. He waited a beat. “I’m gay.”

“I know that, son. I’ve known that since you were twelve.”

Stiles shrugged, grinning. He shoved his hands into leather pockets that shouldn’t exist on pants so tight, grinning. “It’s kind of your fault. You decided to buy plane tickets for June 24th.” Stiles said, again, stating the obvious.

“Yes. I did.” Noah crossed his arms—and then his attention was caught by two girls who were giggling at them. He hid his embarrassment, his eyes firmly on Stiles.

“Wait… you don’t know when Pride is?”

“No?” Why would he?

“Oh—oh man.” Stiles threw back his head and instead of answering grabbed Noah’s suitcase and threw it into the open truck of his… Camaro. How had the Sheriff not noticed the brand new Camaro Stiles was leaning against? “This is going to be so fucking fun.”

“Language,” Noah said, out of habit. He looked the car up and down, grabbing the keys reflexively from Stiles’s hand as they moved closer to get inside. Noah had no idea what San Francisco was like. His son had turned into a rainbow-haired punk. His son. Who was now married. Noah was going to splurge and drive a nice damn car.

* * *

 

“So, this is it.” Stiles pointed to the old building in the middle of the street. They’d had to park off the curb and the building didn’t really look like much. A lot what he expected his 24-year-old son to be renting, actually. Though Noah found himself a bit disappointed that the apartment was over a Chinese Restaurant. “Derek owns it,” Stiles said, grabbing Noah’s suitcase as they exited the car. “And… well, now that you know about Pride…”

“A two-day festival celebrating being gay,” Noah said, nodding as they walked towards the front of the building.

“Yeah. It’s the end of it, so Derek usually hosts this big as—this big party. His sister used to do it, but… ah…”

“His sister died two years after his entire family burnt in a house fire,” Noah said, nodding. He noticed Stiles wince.

“Okay, yeah. I told you that so you had context, but, like, Dad, don’t…uh… mention it? Especially not all cop like—”

“I’m not an idiot, Stiles.” The Sheriff gave his son a hard look as they walked up to a door. He watched Stiles poke in a security code then throw open a heavy metal door into a dusky and dark hallway. “I’m not socially incompetent.”

“Must’ve been mom, then. No way I got it all by myself.” Stiles flashed him a smile as they walked in fully to see… the usual apartment layout. Stairs to the right, bikes under the stairs, metal mailboxes to the left… and a group of women making out. One of them had no shirt on, just rainbow heart stickers over her nipples. At the moment she was wedged between two girls. The one in front of her had ice-blond hair and a leather jacket on, her fist in the bare-chested girl’s long brown hair and making out with her… while another was grinding against the bare-chested girl from behind and looking a lot like—

“Isn’t that Yukimura? Kira Yukimura?” Noah asked.

At hearing her name, Stiles’s childhood friend who’d moved down to the city with Stiles looked up from the girl she was grinding herself on. She’d changed, too. Half of her hair was blue, the other half red, and to complete the Harley Quinn style, she had on dark black lipstick. Though she was clothed normally—a simple black shirt and patterned leggings—he could see that tattoos on her belly that her shirt failed to cover. There was also one on her neck.

“Oh, Stiles!” She giggled, putting her head onto the back of the girl who had no shirt on and was making out with the other girl. Kira’s hands were gentle and possessive on the bare-chested girl’s hips. “Looks like you brought in a silver— _oh my god!_ ” Kira shrieked loud enough that Noah winced and the two ladies detangled their tongues. “Sheriff!”

“Sheriff?” The white-haired girl looked over at them and then bolted. She threw herself between Stiles and Noah, quickly exiting out into the streets.

“Dammit!” The bare-chested brunette cursed, jumping so her… the Sheriff quickly looked up towards the ceiling. It was dark and painted grey so that even with the bare lightbulb illuminating the space it was oppressive and gloomy. Not a good entry-way. At least there was a lock. “She was going to give me her molly, Stiles!”

“Hey, I’m not the one who freaked out and yelled ‘popo’.” Stiles laughed.

“Molly, really?” The Sheriff looked at Kira, who was bright red, and the brunette, who was seething. “Do I need to tell your mother about the type of people you’re hanging around, young lady?”

“Shit, you’re really a Sheriff?” The brunette asked.

“Dad, you know Kira. She’s very sober, don’t worry. That’s her girlfriend, Malia. She’s Derek’s cousin.”

“And who is the young lady that just ran?” Noah asked, crossing his arms. He felt as if he would be doing it a lot while he was here.

“Who knows.” Stiles shrugged. “One of SanFrans finest.” He walked up the stairs, bending over the landing to give Malia, who was closest, a kiss on the head. “Dad you should stay here with Kira and Malia while I go look for Derek!” Stiles then shot up the stairs before Noah could protest. The weathered boards creaked with every step and soon his son was gone. Leaving Noah with Kira and her bare-chested girlfriend.

“So, uh, how have you been?” Kira asked, face red.

“Ugh, god.” Malia crossed her arms under her breasts, rolling her eyes. “I’m going upstairs. Find me when you’re done with memory lane.” She gave the Sheriff a look, eyeing him up and down before disappearing up the stairs after Stiles.

“Sweet girl.” Noah said blandly.

“She has her moments.” Kira still awkwardly shuffled her feet when she was nervous.

“I expected you to be with someone kind.” Noah said. “Honestly, I didn’t expect any of this. I was… I don’t know, preparing myself for Big Bang Theory, not SLC Punk.”

“Oh, well…” Kira trailed off as a group started walking down the steps. “Jackson! I’m so glad…” She trailed off, then real relief filled her eyes at the sight of two girls who were behind the Jackson guy. “Save me!” Kira mouthed as Noah eyed the new man up and down. Like Stiles, he was shirtless, but unlike Stiles, he’d decided to look even more like a vagrant. The black makeup around his eyes was smudged like he’d purposefully let it drag down his cheeks and he had a lit cigarette between his lips. He had no tattoos and it made him look especially bare with his black gloves and bright pink pants.

“You shouldn’t be smoking in the building, son.” Noah said.

“Hu,” the guy smirked around his cigarette. “That’s cute, whose dad are you?”

“Stiles’s.”

He watched the guy, Jackson, blink, then his attention went to the squealing girl behind Jackson. Her hair was bleached white and she had three piercings and bright red lipstick. She managed to rush down the stairs despite her massive high heels and nearly flung herself into Noah’s chest. “Oh! I have so many stories to tell you Papa Stilinski!”

“Erica.” Kira said, voice high with nerves. “No! That’s the _Sheriff_ Stilinski.”

“Oh, I know.” Erica purred at him. Noah was suddenly aware of how very old he was as she leaned into his side. “So, so many stories.”

“Ignore my girlfriend.” The other girl said. She had dark purple hair, a rainbow blazer, no pants on, and odd tattoos. She moved past Jackson and held out her manicured hand. “I’m Lydia.”

“Noah.” His eyes moved back to Jackson. “And you are?”

“Totally not interested.” The guy rolled his eyes. “The party was lame before a dad decided to show up. I’m out.” Cigarette still in his mouth, the man left.

“You guys are going too?” Kira asked, wrapping herself around Lydia.

“Oh, no. We just wanted a breather. Derek decided to choose the music and well…” All three of them laughed as if it meant anything. “What are you doing here, Mr. Stilinski?” Lydia asked.

“I’m meeting my son’s husband for the first time.”

Erica laughed. “Oh, you’re going to _love_ Derek.” She was still hanging on him, pressing herself into his side. She had rather large breasts.

“I’m sure—”

The door to the building opened. He turned to see yet another group walk in. “Apparently Jackson decided to leave before we got here. Dud has such a pissy attitude.” A guy—probably the only normally dressed person Noah had seen since meeting his son—said. He had a baseball cap and a blue t-shirt on and was holding had with a guy… literally chewing a cigarette. Into pieces. The wet tobacco flakes covered his lips as he spit it out onto the entry way floor. Without a word, the cigarette chewer grabbed Erica from Noah’s side and spun her around in the air.

Behind them, a little hidden was… “Scott?” Another childhood friend of Stiles’s who had come to San Francisco for college. Like Stiles, Scott had gained new tattoos and piercings, though Noah was surprised to see it on Scott. The boy had asked for a tattoo on his seventeenth birthday and had somehow managed to convince Mellissa for the two black bands on his bicep. Scott was, at the moment, holding hands with a tall and curly haired man.

“Is everyone in this town gay?” Noah asked, rubbing his forehead. When he went back to Beacon Hills it might seem weird to see a straight couple.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Said the cigarette chewer who was still holding Erica.

“Sheriff!” Scott grinned. “Stiles said you were coming to town, I just didn’t think it would be, uh… tonight.”

“Yeah, me neither, son.”

“Stiles told you he was coming?” Kira asked, pouting.

“Everyone! This is Noah Stilinski. Stiles’s dad. Sheriff, you remember Kira, that’s Lydia and Erica.” He pointed to the two girls. “That’s Liam,” He pointed to the tough looking shit who come in chewing a cigarette. “And his boyfriend, Theo.” He pointed at the normally dressed one. “Don’t get confused, Theo is a lot scarier.”

“Hey!” Liam yelled.

“Oh, and this is Isaac, my boyfriend.” Scott grinned, holding up the hand of the man who was staring down at Noah with one raised eyebrow. “We’re also dating Allison… so, yeah. Where’s Stiles?”

“Wait—wait—your dating a boy and a girl?” Noah asked, confused.

“Yeah, we’re poly.” Isaac rolled his eyes. “I’m heading up, Allison said she was already here.”

“I’m coming with!” Liam rushed up too. After a pointed look, Theo followed with a smile and a polite ‘helo’.

“So.” Noah, arms still crossed, glitter still on his polo, looked at the people around him. “Is he good for Stiles?”

“Oh, dude, yes.” Scott said, nodding his head up and down. He looked to the others. Erica was pouting up the stairs like she wanted to follow and Lydia was on her phone. Only Kira answered but giggling.

“This Derek guy, is he good for Stiles?” Noah repeated with more force.

“Oh yeah. They’re super in love. Stiles totally pulled Derek out of his shell and Derek… well, he makes Stiles really happy.” Lydia said, not looking up from her phone.

Noah nodded. Eventually, once this crazy night was over, he’d meet the man for himself and decide. He stood as the others talked and tried to draw Noah into the conversation. But he felt out of depth with the bands and movies and events that they talked about and the people they mentioned. It wasn’t until two figured started thundering down the stairs did Noah look up from his thoughts.

He watched two more tattooed party goers coming down. A man and a woman. The man held his hands up as he stood on the steps, looking at the group with a kind of desperate, angry glare. “Okay. Stiles is looking for me and apparently, his dad is here—” He paused, then his eyes grew wide as he saw Noah standing at the bottom of the landing. His must be Derek. He was different than Noah expected, handsomer, more muscular, angrier and thuggish looking. He was in no way shape or form the nerd that Noah had thought he’d be. But then, neither was Stiles anymore.

Noah watched as Derek ran up the stairs two at a time.

The girl who had followed him down put her hand to her dark red lips. “Um, he’s… nervous?” She asked, showing a sweet dimpled smile as she walked the rest of the way down. She walked up to Scott and gave him a kiss, leaving his lips red. “He’s a great guy, really.” She told Noah. “Just shy.”

“Mmmhmmm…” Noah sighed. “I don’t like him.” He decided.

* * *

 

He decided to follow the group upstairs rather than wait in the dim landing. The entrance to the loft apartment itself was a huge mental door that slid all the way open to let out fog and smoke that was wafting from the inside. Noah watched Scott and the others disappear inside as he stood by the door, watching bodies gyrating under strobe lights and heavy music.

“You lookin’ for someone, silver fox?” He looked over, blinking at a drag queen in pink who was smoking a cigarette. She smiled at him. “You’re too cute.”

“I’m, uh, looking for my son.”

“Oh?” She asked. “Who might that be?”

“Stiles. Do you know him? Yay high, babbles a lot, tattoos?”

“Honey that’s half the people in this damn place. C’mon, let’s go look.” She put out her smoke and grabbed his hand in one huge one. Her hand covered his wrist in glitter and dust as she dragged him inside. Instantly bodies were on him, moving and pushing in places he wasn’t sure he was comfortable being moved and shoved into. But the drag queen’s grip on him was like iron and impossible to get out of.

“Do you know who you’re looking for?” He yelled over the music.

The drag queen didn’t even turn around. They did a full circle around a huge floorspace, unable to see anything but half clothed bodies and same-sex bumping and grinding. “At the bar—I think I see Derek!” the drag queen yelled into his ear. “He’ll know where your boy is.”

Derek. Yeah. Noah was more than sure Derek knew who Stiles was and where he might be, since he was avidly avoiding Stiles. Noah was dragged further and further into the party before he was stopped at a kitchen counter that served as a bar. Derek stood behind it, talking angrily at a large black man, making a lot of hand gestures as his eyebrows went further and further inward. “That’s Derek!” The drag queen yelled into Noah’s ear. “Good luck!” She slapped Noah’s ass before walking away.

Noah turned, seeing that Derek was still yelling with the man. He grabbed the drag queen’s arm to grab her attention, shoving his face near her sparkling ear. “Thank you! What’s your name?”

“Yolandi!” She yelled. “But you can call me by my boring ass name—Peter.” She winked on huge fake eyelash and was off into the crowd, throwing her hands up and shaking her ass as she wove between two shirtless men.

Noah turned and walked around the bar. He tapped Derek on his huge, massively muscular shoulder.

"What!" Derek yelled, spinning around. His face grew pale as he saw Noah standing there.

"We need to talk!" The Sheriff yelled. He pointed back towards the loft doors.

Derek's mouth was moving, but he wasn't saying his words loud enough for Noah to hear. The man behind him, who'd he'd been arguing with, though, was speaking loud enough. "He'd love to!" He gave thumbs up and shoved Derek towards the loft doors--just as a huge cannon went off as the music changed, becoming even more erratic and loud. Noah made his way back to the door as people screamed and hands were thrown up and glitter flew everywhere.

Relieved to be away from it, Noah slid shut the huge industrial door and turned to Derek, who was frowning heavily, his eyebrows draw in, his arms crossed against his chest. Somehow, the man-made glitter look threatening. "You married my son." Noah said, cutting straight to it.

Derek's hairy chin lifted up. "I did."

Noah crossed his arms. "I figure that makes us in-laws." 

"I guess it does." Derek nodded.

"Most-awkward-conversation-ever." Someone said. Noah sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This party was filled with people and it seemed he couldn't get a minute alone. It seemed right up his son's ADHD ridden alley, but to him, it was damn annoying. He'd been here less than an hour and already his patience was frayed. He looked over to see a tan, muscular man who was staring at them, inches away from an equally muscular but much paler man who was trying to rearrange his clothes. Obviously, they'd interrupted something by trying to have a conversation in the halls, but Noah was beyond caring. "Derek, you good?" The tan man asked. He was wearing a suit and tie, which Noah would have found odd if it wasn't rainbow colored.

"Yeah, Danny. I'm good. You should go inside."

"No privacy inside." The pale one teased.

Derek squinted at them. "Ethan--arn't you with Jackson now?"

"Every once and while we like to share." Ethan grinned, grabbing Danny from behind. "Where is he, by the way?"

"Heard he stomped out a minute or two ago. You can probably still catch his cold ass waiting to the bus stop."

"Right." Ethan saluted and was gone.

Danny stayed though, looking between Derek and the Sheriff. "Seriously--this guy giving you problems, Derek?" Before Derek could answer, Danny turned to the Sheriff. "He's a good dude. Antisocial and creepy--"

"Thanks." Derek bit out.

"--But Stiles is working on it. Don't be too hard on him." He nodded, gave one last look to Derek, and followed his lover down the stairs.

"So, serial killer looks with a heart of gold, hu?" Noah asked, staring at Derek.

"Yes, sir." Derek's eyes were hard, though, unamused. There was glitter all over his face, in his lashes.

"Why did you marry my son?"

Derek blinked heavily, then looked down at his feet. "Because the first time I met him at the coffee shop he was trying to draw dicks in the foam. Because he spilled coffee all over my laptop while I was halfway done with a chapter and instead of apologizing he laughed--said my face was hilarious, and then stalked me somehow to find out where I live and left me a cake he'd made that said  _Sorry I killed your Toshiba_. Because he knows I only wear specific types of shirts so he bought me ten of those shirts for my birthday but in ridiculous colors, like yellow and bright purple and orange. Because he never shuts up. And he makes inappropriate fisting jokes  _way_ too often." Derek was smiling now, still staring down at his feet, his features lifting. "Because he keeps saying he has 'ink fever' and nearly faints every time he gets a tattoo done. Because he lets Lydia show him  _The Notebook_ over and over again and cries every time. Because he once screamed at me in the middle of a fight to demand I call him a bird, and I was so startled I actually yelled 'you're a bird'. Because... he doesn't think I'm a serial killer with a heart of gold, he thinks I'm... Derek. 

"The first time I told him about my family, instead of saying 'sorry' or 'how awful' like everybody else does, he told me about his mom and our next date was at the firehouse for a seminar on home safety. Because the first time I told him I loved him, he said 'I thought it was obvious'. To be fair, he was practically already moved in by that point. Because he kept asking our friends if I 'like-liked' him.As soon as we got to Vegas, and we were walking the strip, and I saw the little cheesy chapel open, I thought...fuck--I don't care if it's sudden or probably too early, I've been patient enough. I want him to know that he'll always be in my heart."

Noah said nothing. The song ended and started again--or maybe just sounded the same. The base thumped against his back through the wall. "He shoved a wedding dress into my stall to be married in because apparently, I'm the 'wife' in the relationship--and he decided to dress as goddamn Spiderman so he could say 'with great marriage comes great sex' instead of 'I do'. And it wasn't the happiest day of my life. Every day with him just... get's better and better." Derek looked up, his gaze intense. "That's why I married your son."

Noah smiled gently. He walked forward. Derek looked warry like he was going to get a punch in the face. Instead, Noah awkwardly tried to hug the man as he stood stiffly, still leaning against the wall. The man was made of muscle. And when it was clear that Derek wasn't going to uncross his arms or lean into the hug, Noah let him go with a pat on the back. "That's what I like to hear, son. Now, you're going to buy me a hotel for the night so I can get some sleep and not wake up covered in glitter, is that understood?"

"Yes." Derek nodded, a little eager.

"Good." The Sheriff patted him on the shoulder, and they moved to walk down the stairs. "Tomorrow we'll bond over good food--when is the reception?"

"In two days." Derek said, stopping. Noah tried to move him along, but the guy seriously was made of muscle. He didn't even sway. "I, uh, have to go grab Stiles."

"No need." Both of them turned to see Stiles at the end of the hall, holding something lace up to his face that weirdly looked like panties and blowing his nose into it. "That was beautiful. Bonding happened. Bonding."

The Sheriff rolled his eyes, and he watched Derek--the stiff, awkward guy he'd just met... melt a little. They ran to each other and Stiles jumped on the guy, who caught him very easily as legs swung around his waist. "You should be a fucking poet, Der."

"Shut up." And Noah thought about turning away as they kissed, but decided to lean against the doorjamb and bask in his son's happiness--in his new son-in-law's happiness. It was Pride after all. And there was nothing a father could feel more prideful about than seeing his only son happy.

**Author's Note:**

> I mostly did this cus I liked all the pictures of how everyone looked--so here, a long list of Teen Wolf Characters edited to look like punks.  
> https://tinyurl.com/y88jeae6  
> https://tinyurl.com/y86ldw6p  
> http://www.insgrum.com/media/1070245797313052488_1442258262  
> http://www.insgrum.com/media/1069515252467695104_1442258262  
> http://www.insgrum.com/media/1070628932102061721_1442258262


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